Just Words
by Depressed Chibi
Summary: The word "freak" never meant anything to Richard before.


**Let me give you the setting of the story: it's a small town AU; metahumans (mutants), aliens, superpowers exist, but there are no superheros; Gar and Dick are already dating.**

**- DC**

**Warnings:** Graphic description of violence/gore, character death

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"Freak"

When Richard was younger, the word wouldn't have meant anything to him.

It was just a word, right?

He fist meet a metahuman when he was eight. The fear from others around him was obvious, but Richard wasn't scared. She smiled pleasantly, even when the people around her called her hurtful names.

"It's just a word after all," she would say sweetly to him.

…

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…

"Gar, where are we going?" Richard asked with a hint of annoyance. His boyfriend had somehow sneaked into his bedroom, woke him up by shaking him, morphed into a tiger to carry him out of the window, and then morphed back into a human so he could drag Richard by the wrist to some location unknown to him. The older boy would have been more annoyed had the events not been a weekly thing. Only, usually Garfield would only sneak into his room to cuddle with him; not drag him out so early in the morning.

"You'll see when we get there, promise," Garfield exclaimed.

The brunet huffed, but continued to let himself be whisked away.

Finally, they came to sudden stop. Richard barely missed knocking them both to the ground. As a green hand clutched his own tightly, and they stared out towards the glistening shore, Richard knew why they were there.

The sun was just coming up over the horizon. The water mirrored the orange and pink colors that danced above them. It added sparkling lights to the scene, like the cameras flashing after a performance. The soft clouds added a dark contrast against the illuminating sky. Richard couldn't help but close his eyes as he listened to the gentle crashing of the waves. Chills shook him when the salt tainted winds rushed past him, and when the icy waters finally soaked his shoes.

Two warm hands clasped one of his own as a weight shifted against his side. "I know you've been stressed lately. Thought this might help,"

"It does," Richard breathed. He opened his eyes and stared down at Garfield. Light reflecting from the ocean swayed on his jade cheeks. He never looked more stunning. Richard brought a hand to his boyfriend's face and pulled him into a kiss.

Breath seemed to escape them. Garfield clutched onto Richard's shoulders like he was a life raft and in return, Richard pulled the shorter boy closer. Not even the wind could pass between them. Toes curled and nails sank into skin. Someone's eyes watered, but flicks of tears stained both their cheeks. The electricity between their soft lips only broke with a smile. Garfield ginned stupidly up at Richard. Richard smiled softly at Garfield.

"You're the best," Richard whispered.

"I know," Garfield taunted, winking cheekily and flopping onto the sand. He stretched himself out with a satisfied groan and lay still. Eventually, Richard followed and sat on the soft ground too. He knew he had training with his adoptive father, Bruce, and would be late if he didn't start heading home soon. But he supposed he could be a little late just today.

The peaceful period didn't last long as a couple of surfers appeared from no where. They were laying their beach blankets not too far from the two boys, but stopped suddenly. They stared at the couple – namely the green boy – before they murmured amongst each other.

Richard's hearing was nothing superhuman, but he was still able to hear their words.

"Wait, does something look wrong with them to you?"

"Wha'd ya' mean?"

"Is that guy... green? I'm not seeing things, am I?"

"No way! Holy shit, I think you're right,"

"Come on, lets move further that way. Don't want to catch 'freak',"

"Haha, yeah! Bet it's human butt plug turns green in a week,"

"Such a freak,"

"Monster,"

Richard gritted his teeth together at the words directed towards his boyfriend. He seethed with anger, but stayed silent; starting a fight wouldn't solve anything. He glanced at Garfield and noticed the pained expression: eyebrows furrowed, lips turned downward, long pointed ears drooped slightly.

Of course he heard. If Richard could hear them there was be no doubt Garfield would pick up their words. The older male grabbed a soft green hand and rubbed his thumb over the knuckles. "You're not-"

"I know," Garfield interrupted. The words were spoken quickly and seemed force. He knew Garfield too well to believe he was okay. The boy was probably repeating the words in his mind and thinking them true.

"Gar..."

"Haha, oh, look at the time," Garfield chuckled drily, bringing up his arm and tapping on his wrist as if there were a watch on it, "training time, Dick. You better get home before Mr. Sunshine yells at you."

"It can wait,"

"_This _can wait," the boy countered, pecking Richard on the lips. "I'll see you after school," Garfield said quietly, getting up from the ground.

Richard rose to his feet as well. He made a vain attempt at grabbing Garfield's hand, but his fingers only brushed against air. He wanted to say something, but nothing came to him. He could skip training, skip school, skip everything just for today and be with his boyfriend. That's what he wanted to say, but all he managed was a weak "see ya'".

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…

Richard barely made it through the day. All he could think about was Garfield and those surfers. The way they sneered at the boy just because he was different. How quick they were to claim him as some lesser being.

For the people around the male, it wasn't hard to notice his particular mood. Richard had had his jaw and hands clenched so much that he wouldn't be surprised if they had stuck like that. He had also snapped at anyone willing to make eye contact with him. All he wanted was to go to Garfield's place, wrap the boy up in a blanket, and have a movie marathon.

When the final bell rang, Richard raced out the school and hopped onto his bike. He pedaled straight towards Garfield's house. As the gravel on the road shifted under his weight, he felt a sinking feeling in his chest. He just felt like something was off.

He jumped off the bike, letting it fall abandoned on the front lawn, and practically flew to the front door. Richard pounded his fist against the door a couple of times and waited. There was a soft shuffling at first and then thumping.

"Coming," a sing song voice called, "Honey, is that you?"

The door creaked open and Richard was greeted with a warm face. "Oh, Richard! What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Mrs. Dayton, is Gar home?"

Rita gave him a curious stare. "No," she drawled slowly, "...I thought he was with you."

Richard could hear the quick beating of his own heart before he asked, "When did you last see him?"

Wrinkles around her eyes and forehead creased as she pondered the question. "Last night, before he went to bed. When he didn't some down for breakfast, I figured he was on one of his hikes. Then I just thought he was spending the day with you," she answered.

"He was with me, but that was this morning. We parted way not too long after,"

Rita bit her lip and stared at the ground in thought. When she finally had a plan, she looked up at Richard. "Okay, I'll get Larry, Cliff, and Steve to help me look for him. Richard, I hate to ask, but could-"

"I'll check out all the usual places he hangs out," Richard answered, knowing what Rita was going to say.

"Thank you, Richard," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Contact me if you find anything. We'll make sure to call you if there's something on our end."

Richard nodded. A five people search, especially with four of those people being metahumans, had pretty good chances of finding someone, but he couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. Rita noticed his hesitance and whispered, "It'll be okay, we'll find him."

Richard nodded before running to his bike. In one fluid motion he piked up the bike, hopped on it, and sped away.

…

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…

Richard trudged out of the arcade. After asking – or rather interrogating – every employee in the building, he had still came up short. He sent the message to Rita and pocketed his phone once more. The sun was looking pretty low as it bathed the town in orange and red.

He felt sick to his stomach; there hadn't been any good news about finding the green male. Every lead had turned up empty.

"_Help_,_"_

Bike tires ripped off the sidewalk before he knew what he was doing. That was Garfield's voice! He was close. Very close. But what made Richard's stomach drop was how blood curdling that scream was.

Richard skid to a stop in a parking lot a few streets over. A quick scan showed him that the area was almost completely empty. Almost.

"Garfield," Richard yelled.

The boy lay on the ground in the middle of the group. One person was crouched beside him, doing something with their hands. "Get away from him," the brunet screamed, jumping from his bike and racing towards the group. The teens noticed him and immediately jumped into the back of the truck. Hands waved at the driver and the truck revived to life. Tired screeched away and Richard felt some form of relief. At least he scared them off.

The chain that followed behind the truck; however, dissolved his feelings of hope. Richard could only watch in horror as the chain ate all the loose metal it could and began to pull Garfield's very still form with it.

Richard dove to stop the boy from being pulled, but he hit solid ground. He slammed his fist down on the pavement. He wanted to scream, but that wasn't going to help Garfield. He grabbed his phone and informed Rita of what was happening as he raced to his bike. He threw his phone in his pocket and followed beside the truck.

Richard had trouble keeping up with the vehicle, but the guttural coughs and wheezing of his boyfriend kept him moving. Garfield clawed at the collar around his throat, but he couldn't slip his fingers between the accessory and his own neck. Seeing Richard, Garfield did his best to out stretch his hand to him.

It broke the brunet's heart to see his boyfriend in such a helpless state. "Don't worry, Gar, I got you," he promised. Richard raced closer to the truck's bumper, where the chained connected to the car. He reached for the chain and made a few swipes at the air before finally touching the cold metal. Richard lifted the chain up and snapped his hands back, breaking the chain free from the truck.

Richard lost his balance and fell to the ground.

The world faded in and out of darkness for Richard. From what he could see, the criminals were getting away; melting into the orange sky. But that's not what mattered. Richard struggled to his knees and hands, doing his best not to collapse as the world swayed around him. He looked behind him, his eyes landed on the battered body of his boyfriend.

Garfield lay on his side, facing away from the brunet. Richard crawled over and turned the boy onto his back. He placed an unsteady hand on the green neck, searching for a pulse. None. Richard then rested his head on Garfield's chest, watching for any sign that he was breathing. None.

A growl erupted deep from Richard's chest and he started preforming CPR. The hushed counting became more strained and his vision blurred. He knew it was useless from the black bruises and caved in appearance of Garfield's slim throat. Richard shakily caressed the uninjured side of the green boy's face. The other side of his face was smeared with blood and had been rubbed raw. Pebbles were embedded into the exposed muscle.

Tears welled up in his eyes. Richard repeated over and over to himself that Garfield had to be okay. He just had to...

But the purple and black bruises that littered his body said different, the lacerations that covered both of his arms like sleeves said different, the blood blossoming from underneath his shirt said different.

Richard's body shook from the sobs he held back. He didn't understand how anyone could do such a thing. Why would anyone do it? As Richard stared down at the body, the drying blood on Garfield's shirt caught is attention. It almost seemed to be pattern. Richard peeled back the t-shirt and examined the muscled torso. "Freak" was carved across his ribs.

That broke him. Richard grabbed the bloodied corpse and pulled it into his arms. His sobs ripped through the air, causing more than a few people peek at the spectacle. He pressed his head against Garfield's. His gasps for air filled his senses with the smell of iron. Richard cried harder. All he wanted was for his boyfriend to wake up in his arms. To laugh at the spectacle Richard was surely making of himself and tell him that it was all some terrible practical joke. He'd laugh that contagious laugh and give Richard a toothy grin.

Because a word couldn't do... this.

It was just a word, right?


End file.
